


Lets pretend

by lilija_the_red



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Hurt, M/M, communication problems
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-22
Updated: 2015-09-22
Packaged: 2018-04-22 22:41:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4853294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilija_the_red/pseuds/lilija_the_red
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their relationship has a due day and they both know it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lets pretend

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a long time ago, back in the times of buzzcut-Stiles. The characterizations are accordingly.

Stiles was sitting on the cold window sill, his back leaned against the wall and his left feet was dangling over the side of the sill. It was a dark night, clouds were crowding the sky and a cold wind was brushing through the tree branches. Stiles’ face was turned outside, his eyes skipping over the sky, desperate to find at least one star to fight through the heavy clouds. But there was nothing. He sighed deeply. His head was heavy with thoughts, but none of them was ‘sleep’. In fact, he hasn’t slept properly in days - or has it been weeks already? He couldn’t tell anymore. This night, though, has been no exception. He had started up from sleep in the middle of the night, damp with sweat and his mind racing. He couldn’t go back to sleep. So he flee from the bed, trying to make as little sounds as possible, not wanting to disturb the other man’s sleep. That must have been an hour ago… 

Sounds of ruffling sheets from behind, caught his attention. He turned his head quickly to see its cause, but what he saw made chest ache. Derek has rolled into the empty space, Stiles’ had left behind, the feet tangled in the sheets. His eyes were still closed, the hair muzzled from sleep, a soft look sat on his face. Stiles wanted to scream. He watched Derek reaching out, his hand searching for something in the bed, nah, not something- someone. Derek’s face contorted when he only found empty space in their bed.

'Their bed’, Stiles thought.

It still felt strange to think of it as it was, let alone saying it out loud! Even after two years these words still tasted wrong on the tip of his tongue, leaving a stale taste behind. But it was their reality. Admittedly, he had no idea how they ended up like this. How this 'they’ even became possible. All he knew was that they were here, together, and that he had no idea how long this was going to last. And that was the one big problem: how long could they stay like this? Like it had been for the last two years? How long until Derek would realize, this just wasn’t enough, and move on? That this day would come - Stiles was sure about it. It was a given. The only logical outcome. But still, he feared that day more than any monster he knew.

His eyes wandered over Derek’s sleeping body and back to his face. His expression was soft, no wrinkles of worry disturbing his features, only a small smile hinting at his lips. His arms were thrown far away from his body, taking up most of the bed. He looked at peace, Stiles thought. No signs of the always moody and brooding Derek he had met four years ago. No dark shadows clouding his eyes, no anger or guilt drawing him out. It had gotten less over the years. It had been a long process, and Stiles had been thankful to be allowed to witness this transformation. (And a little part of him, took proudly credit of at least some of this change.) But all this…wasn’t enough in the long run.

He didn’t even know why Derek was with him in the first place! Stiles knew what his motivations had been. He hadn’t noticed his fall for Derek Hale at first, but when he had, it had been far too late. Stiles knew that there was more to Derek than what hit the eye. At first he had almost fallen for Derek’s mask of anger and hate, the sarcasm to cover up his insecurities… But Stiles didn’t. He had been able to look beyond that and have seen it for what it had really been: a act of self-protection and self-sacrifice. He’d gotten a glimpse of a caring Derek, a Derek who had felt lost and had been still too young to bear what the world had thrown on him. A Derek who had not wanted to be alone anymore, who had wanted to trust again. 

Wounds like Derek’s don’t simply disappear without leaving scars behind and sometimes scars itch, Stiles knew that. Derek’s wounds were scarred by now, but they still hurt. And so was he. Hurt and lost and, oh, how Stiles wished to be the one, to find Derek and guide him out of this mess. He would do anything to be the one. But he wasn’t. He knew he wasn’t. Would never be. Knowing this made everything even more painful. More unbearable. Always trying to live up to some damn phantom person, who would be able to help Derek, like he needed it, although knowing way too well, he could never fulfill this role.  
Stiles knocked his head against the wall behind him and bit on his lip. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to make too much sounds as he slowly let out the air out of his lungs, desperate to get some of the tension out of his body, but failing completely. He felt like crying.  
Derek needed somebody to help him clear his head, help him focus on the right things, the important ones, how could Stiles help him with that? Derek needed somebody to help him overcome his past, someone who could quicken up the scarring, someone helping him to make peace with his past. Derek needed somebody he could rely on. Needed somebody, who would help him being a good Alpha, who would help him keeping the pack safe. Derek needed somebody who would be able to make him happy, somebody with whom he could just let go for a moment and just be.   
Derek needed a strong person by his side, somebody who was surely stronger than Stiles and who wouldn’t have as many issues of their own, like Stiles did.

Stiles wished he could be this person, sure, and he had tried to be all of it. But theres only that much you can fool yourself - and others. He had reached his limits. He knew it, and soon Derek would realize it, too. Stiles had tried so hard, for so long, to be someone he wasn’t, to act better than he was. He had always tried something. And…suddenly the truth hit him like a bullet through the chest. The big why. It had been so clear!

Stiles had been there. Simple as that.

That’s how all of this could have happened. It had been conveniant. Scott getting bitten had thrown Stiles into Derek’s way again and again and again. Stiles had always been there, always trying something. Stiles had been the annoying little shit that just refused to disappear, like an unnerving splinter, which doesn’t let it be pulled out by you. Stiles was sure, now, if it had been truly free for Derek to decide who to take, his choice wouldn’t had been on Stiles. Sure he had helped Derek overcome some dark spots in his past but it never really had to be Stiles, anybody else could have done it, just as well! And all this help had never been enough, in the end, so what’s the point?   
Derek choosing Stiles had never been about choosing, Derek had just went with the situation. He was probably not even aware of it himself, Stiles thought.

But what would keep Derek from realizing just like Stiles did? A cold rush run through his body. The day was soon on which Derek would come to the conclusion that Stiles was nothing more then baggage, baggage you really didn’t want to carry around with you. He burried his face in his hands, shoulders tensed. His breath went short.

'This day’, he thought, 'would be the day I’d die.’ 

Not literally, but emotionally.

Stiles knew how bad this must sound, how unhealthy this might be, but – he huffed out an unpleasent laugh – how healthy was it for him to live with supernatural creatures, while being painfully human, anyways?! His hand wandered absently to the scar at his right shoulderblade. It was a big scar covering a good part of the shoulder. An ugly scar. His 'battle scar’.

One year ago a wild rogue had attacked him but he could not do anything. He still remembered the pulsing blood rushing out of his body, how cool the ground had felt as he hit it but he also remembered the look on Derek’s face when he finally had made it to him. Stiles still knew how Derek had thrown himself against the rogue, away from Stiles… then he had blacked out. It had been a close shot… Sometimes when he tried pretending Derek would feel the same for Stiles like he did for Derek, that he was just as invested as Stiles was, he would remember this look of pure horror and fury on Derek’s face, when he thought Stiles dead. Stiles liked to pretend, but he knew it was only pretending. Derek cared for him, he knew, but he doubted it was more than convenience. Stiles let his fingers ran francticly through his hair, desperately trying to reduce the pounding headache behind his forhead. He squeezed his eyes shut. 'Inhale, exhale’ he told himself. He was fine, just inhale, exhale…

“Stiles?”

The voice was soft, but to Stiles it still seemed utterly loud in the quiet room. Stiles’ head jerked up, his eyes fell on Derek laying in bed with his eyes open, looking at Stiles with his eyebrows raised.

“Why are you awake already?” Derek yawned and Stiles wanted to run. Anywhere. Just - get away from here.

“Sorry if I woke you up, Derek”, Stiles tried to sound normal, but Derek didn’t seem to buy it. 

He sat up straight in bed, his tone worried. “Is everything alright, Stiles?”

“Yes, yes! I’m fine. seriously. Derek, just go back to sleep”, Stiles tried to put on an convincing smile, but he knew his heartbeat probably gave him away anyway.

“Stiles?”

“I’m fine. I just couldn’t sleep…seriously Derek, I’m all good.” He took a deep breath. 'PLEASE, Derek. have mercy.’ 

“It’s alright.”

Derek fixed him for a moment, before sighing. “C'mere, Stiles.” He drew back the covers, indicating him to come join him back in bed. 

 

Stiles gulped. He didn’t want to go, he really didn’t, not back into the bed, where he would lay so close to Derek, so close to everything he wished for but would never really have. He much rather wanted to stay at the window where his heart was safe. At least safer than in bed right next to Derek. Still he found himself hopping off of the window sill and waddling back to bed, right into Derek’s arms. When Stiles reached the bedside, Derek took his hands and pulled him down. Stiles found himself sitting across from Derek, hands folded on his legs. Slowly Derek raised his right hand to Stiles’ cheek, the fingers lightly brushing over the skin. Stiles closed his eyes, leaning into the touch. He could feel lips brush his own and Derek’s fingers squeezing his. He could feel the warmth radiating from Derek, soothing, calming, familiar. He let himself be carried away by the feeling of Derek’s lips on his, their fingers interwined. Derek eventually broke the kiss to lean their foreheads together. He could hear the low sigh that escaped Derek’s throat. A sudden exhaustion hit Stiles.

'Please’, he pleaded in his mind. 'Please, just one more day.’

“Let’s get you some sleep”, Derek murmured, making Stiles eyes flutter open. A soft smile was sitting on Derek’s lips. Stiles wanted to cry. This was too cruel! What would he do, if he couldn’t see this anymore, one day? But he wouldn’t think about it anymore, not tonight. Instead he let himself being pulled down against Derek’s chest, strong arms thrown around him.

'Just one more day, please.’ He closed his eyes, letting the warmth of Derek capture hold of his own stiff limbs. Derek began to draw small circles on Stiles’ back, massaging the tension away, causing a small sigh to escape Stiles’ throat.

'One more day… Just. Pretend.’ Any day more would be a gift, one more day was all he hoped for.

'Let’s pretend.’ Everything was fine, he was here with Derek. They were together. Without a due day. Let’s pretend.  
Stiles could hear Derek whisper soothing words into his hair, constantly letting his hand run over Stiles’ back.

'Let’s pretend’, he thought as he drifted further into sleep.

'Let’s pretend…’

 

“I love you, Stiles.” 

But Stiles didn’t hear Derek’s words anymore, for he was already asleep.

Derek could feel Stiles breath even out, but his grip didn’t loosen up. Something had thrown Stiles off, so much was obvious. Not only tonight, it had been going on for at least two weeks, now. Derek was worried, but no matter what he had tried, Stiles wouldn’t talk about it. He couldn’t help Stiles. Derek sighed, burrying his face deeper in Stiles’ hair. It pained him to see Stiles like this, the bags under his eyes darkening with every sleepless night, his jumpiness intensifying - he felt fucking useless.

Derek stared up at the ceiling, his hand still absently drawing lines on Stiles’ back. He loved to touch Stiles, feeling him so close to him. The other man’s heartbeat just next to his own, feeling his warm body next to his. Derek enjoyed those quiet moments when he was allowed to really have Stiles. But it was only a matter of time until he wouldn’t be able to say this anymore. Someday Stiles would want to leave and Derek had no right to deny him this. Derek knew this, and it pained him to no end.  
He knew the day, Stiles would leave would be the day his heart would finally turn to stone. Stiles had saved it once, but he was also the only one holding the power to destroy it. If it hadn’t been for Stiles, Derek would had died years ago. He had been the one saveing him from his path of self-destruction, a path he had had a hard time leaving. With Stiles leading the way, the pack had helped Derek to start trusting again. Due to Stiles, Derek grew stronger, calmer, better - happier. With Stiles he allowed himself to be happy again, something he thought he would never truly experience again. But he knew it was only borrowed time. Stiles had still been a teen, almost a kid, when they had met. He soon was forced to grow up by the shit going down in Beacon Hills, leaving him old at a very young age. 

But Stiles was still only 21, just became a full adult according to the law! Soon he would feel the need to change. To find himself. And Derek knew, he would probably only be unwanted baggage of an old life. He wouldn’t fit into Stiles’ world anymore. He made peace with this thought - well as much peace as you could make. He had sworn himself , when the day would come, he wouldn’t hold Stiles back. But, oh, how much he wished for the day to never arrive! But that was only useless whishing…

'Just one more day, please.’

Stiles slightly moved in his sleep, cuddling closer to Derek. A soft smile appeared on Derek’s face. But it froze as his hand brushed over Stiles’ right shoulder. Even through the hem of the shirt he could feel the scars on Stiles’ skin. Pictures of that night last year flooded his mind. 

A furious rogue had been making its way through Beacon Hills, a big blood trail marking its path. The pack had been outside, trying to take it down, when the beast had managed to isolate Stiles from the group. Stiles had grown good in combat, but not even Stiles could surrender over a rogue all on his own. The few minutes, he had managed to keep the beast at bay were admirable on their own! It had bought them the time, they had needed to find him. When they finally had arrived, Stiles had already been laying on the ground, a cluffing wound on his shoulder, blood oozing from it, forming puddle around Stiles’ torso. So much blood… Derek remembered the rogue circling its lifeless toy, ready to bite, to drag the claws through the flesh of this human boy. It had played with them. With Stiles.   
Pure fury had hit Derek as he’d thrown himself against the massive body of the rogue. Fury and fear. What would he had done if Stiles hadn’t survived that night?

A shiver ran through his body. He still didn’t want to think about it.

When he finally had gotten back to Stiles, the others had already started to stop the bleeding, but Stiles had long lost his conciousness. In the end he had survived the night, but the scars would stay. Later Stiles would show them around calling them his 'battle marks’ laughing about it and making jokes how he had been a rogue’s toy. But Derek knew how terrified he really was. Hell, Derek had been terrified, too! Scott had cried for days, not leaving Stiles’ bedside, with Lydia on the other side. It had been terrifying to see Stiles in that huge hospital bed. That night had shown Derek once more how dangerous this life for Stiles really was. And how good it would be for him to leave it all behind, no matter his own feelings. Derek couldn’t force Stiles to live this life. Didn’t want to. But in the end, Derek was too selfish to free Stiles. To say it was over. No, he would wait for Stiles to realize it himself, while secretely cherishing each given day. Because every day with Stiles would be more than he has ever hoped for.

'One more day.’ He begged.

Just one more day and he maybe could survive their end. Maybe.

“Please, Stiles … Stay for one more day.


End file.
